


Taste

by RenShep



Series: RenShep's Men of Bioware [4]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M, Mass Effect Kink Meme, One Shot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-13
Updated: 2013-07-13
Packaged: 2017-12-19 09:00:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/881938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RenShep/pseuds/RenShep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For a prompt on the Kink meme:</p>
<p>Saren walks in on Shepard Masturbating</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taste

Saren was in a foul mood. A contact he’d worked with over the course of the year had failed to come through with the desired information. And had the audacity to actually try to put one over on him. Saren had never really wanted to work with the volus in the first place, but he had proved useful in certain situations. Until he’d fallen under the foolish impression that he’d had the upper hand. As a result the little thief wouldn’t be stealing anything ever again.

The lack of information was going to cause a setback in one of his ongoing investigations, and he really didn’t have time to mess around. He was busy training the human Spectre candidate. As frustrating as he found her, she was turning out to be remarkably capable, though he was loathe to admit it, even to himself. It was bad enough when he thought Nihlus was going to be saddled with mentoring the human, but when the council ordered Saren to the task he’d been unable to turn it down.

Not that he hadn’t let his displeasure be known.

He knew precisely why they’d chosen him. They wanted him to fail her. They wanted him to return to the Council, shamed human in tow, and tell them she was not Spectre material. They’d tried to manipulate him into it, and he was not a turian who tolerated being manipulated.

The human, it turned out was more than up to the task. Not that he’d let her know that.

He’d begun to understand, even appreciate her sense of humor, though more often than not he wished she would hold her tongue. He very much enjoyed baiting her, as well. Her face would flush and her eyes would narrow in her face; biting out caustic remarks. She was beginning to gain control of her temper however, and it was becoming more difficult to raise her hackles and get her spitting like a varren bitch. But he approved of her progress. Her temper had proven to be her biggest weakness.

Most of all though, he enjoyed their sometimes heated arguments, or specifically, making sure she was aware of her place. Though she’d made suggestions as to their course of action on occasion, often very good suggestions, she’d once she’d flat out refused to go with his plan, triggering a heated fight when he’d refused to listen to her reasoning. He taken extreme enjoyment forcing to submit to his authority over the matter, the way her eyes burned defiantly into his before she muttered the obligatory “yes, sir.” The memory brought him no small amount of pleasure.

When he entered the ship he didn’t see Shepard anywhere. He removed his armor and stowed his weapons, and noted that music seemed to be coming from her small room. He walked past her door and prepared to enter his own quarters when the scent hit him. It was unusual, pungent, musky, exotic, his normally rather dry mouth began to salivate. He considered knocking, but thought it would better raise her hackles if he simply walked in unannounced.

The door opened silently as the sound of the music increased. She was lying on her back, only wearing the top half of her clothing, the rest lay crumpled on the floor. Her eyes were closed and her hands were between her legs. He could not see precisely what her hands were up to, not from his current angle, but he had a fairly good sense given the way her hips were writhing. A warm pulse of her scent washed over him again. He suppressed a shiver. He hadn’t had any idea that the scent of human arousal could smell so delicious. He remained still for a moment, watching her. Noting the way her eyes seemed to move beneath her closed lids, listening to her muted moans and shaking breaths, the way she arched her back and she worked her hands between her legs. He moved into the room, careful to do so silently, angling himself for a better view. It wasn’t that humans turned him on, but the way she smelled, the way her body seemed so respond even to her own touch intrigued him.

He could see precisely what she was doing with her hands now. One hand had parted her flesh, occasionally pinching or massaging the outer areas, two fingers of the second hand were swiftly rubbing against an area just above her entrance. The flesh there was pink, glistening and wet; he closed his eyes a moment, savoring the delectable scent. He considered making his presence known, making a crude comment regarding her weakness; it would have been enjoyable to watch her face redden with embarrassment, she’d likely avoid eye contact for a few days, too humiliated to do so.

And then he considered other possibilities.

She still hadn’t noticed him, or even opened her eyes. Her head was back, blunt teeth digging into her lower lip, eyebrows furrowed as though she was having some difficulty on her own.

  
He could remedy that, and likely enjoy himself in the process.

He moved forward silently, her focus was so intent she still hadn’t registered his presence, very unlike her. He knew he needed to move quickly, not give her a chance to respond until he had her where he wanted her. At the foot of the bed, between her legs he reached down and swiftly gripped both her slender wrists in one of his hand, pulled them above her head and pinned them there. Her eyes opened, shock registering on her face. Her reaction was immediate, she moved to close her legs and push him off her, but he was prepared for that, forcing her legs to remain open with his knees.

“Saren! What the f…” He cut her off. Lowered his mandibles to better expose his teeth he growled, inches from her face. It was at that exact moment that his slid one thick finger into her. Even through his gloves he could fell her channel grip him. Spirits – humans were _elastic_. She stretched to accommodate the intrusion of his finger, but at the same time gripped him. He slid his finger back and pushed it forward again, enjoying the tightness of her, the way she clutched at him.

Judging from her reaction he wasn’t the only one enjoying this.

She tried to disguise it, but her faint gasp, the way her pupils dilated gave her away. Again, he stroked her, exploring, searching for the right spots. He found them easily. He curled his finger forward, feeling a soft, spongy area to the front of her tight cunt and probed it with the tip of his finger. That did it. Her eyelids became heavy and her hips raised forward of their own accord, her body urging him on even if her mind remained uncertain.

He removes his finger, grabs one calf and pulled her closer to the edge of the bed. Still gripping her wrists he pulls her arms forward, trapping them in his hand and using his body weight to press them into her abdomen, trapping her there. He lowered himself to his knees between her legs. She tried to speak, but again he cuts her off, this time with his tongue.

Delicious cannot even begin to describe her taste. This time, against his own accord, a low, rumbling growl escapes him. He attacked her with is tongue, slipping it between her wet folds, taking in as much of her glorious moisture into his mouth as he could. Another low growl vibrated through him, she approves, he can tell, without even seeing her face. Her hips buck against him, pressing her fragrant pink flesh more firmly against his mouth. He sinks his tongue deep into her, reaching for that soft spongy area buried deep inside, desperately wanting more of her taste, like he’s starved for something he didn’t even know he wanted.

She seemed to appreciate his fervor; one of her legs wraps itself around his back, just beneath his cowl, pulling him towards her center. Her body begging him for more, even if she was doing her best to disguise her groans of obvious pleasure.

Her body is not the only one responding.

With his free hand he grips his cock through his bodysuit, hard, throbbing, wanting. But he isn’t finished exploring her with his mouth yet. He touches his tongue to that bit of flesh above her opening, where just minutes ago her fingers had been frantically at work. This time her moan is not strangled, but a clear call of pleasure. He nips at the small nub with his mouth plates, she bucks against him again. He repeats the action, again and again, watching the muscles play across her abdomen, the way her soft thighs tremble, before finally lapping at her again.

A hiss and a cry escape her, her hips raise themselves from the bed; the calf she has slung across his back tightens. Her orgasm gives him a sense of power and pleasure. But it’s not enough. He grips the zipper of his body suit, removing it as best he can using only one hand, keeping her pinned still. Finally he releases his cock, it aches with need.

He pulls at her wrists, raises them above her head once again and hovers over her for just a brief moment, eyes locked with hers, before he mounts her fully. A snarl escapes him. The slick tightness of her is better than he could have imagined. He can feel her pulse pounding there, squeezing his throbbing cock,  her body urging his on. He complies immediately, pulling back before filling her once again. Her mouth opens, but she doesn’t speak, doesn’t even make a sound, just arches against him, giving her body up to him.

The rhythm he keeps is slow and deliberate; he savors the sensation of her tightness pulling at him, squeezing him. One of her legs wraps itself around his hip, rubbing against his sensitive waist. Something breaks inside him, he shifts, grabs her forearms he keeps her pinned against the bed, he snaps at her shoulder, teeth sinking into her skin, and begins relentlessly pounding into her soft, welcoming body. He hears only her faint whimpers and the sound of his flesh slapping against hers, until her entire body tightens, strains, and she comes with a shattering scream.

With a roar his body follows, pouring into her as wave after aching wave of pleasure washes over him. When he finally opens his eyes he finds hers locked on his face. She’s breathing rapidly, he’s practically panting in return. Their eyes hold for seconds, minutes, he couldn’t say. Finally he slips out of her, raises himself and rights his body suit. He regards her for a moment, considering.

Finally, he speaks. “You have more ... Potential … than I had even realized, Shepard.”


End file.
